


Finding something worth taking

by emptymasks



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: 5+1 Things, Basically, Class Differences, First Meetings, Fluff, Guns, Highwayman AU, Horsemen, Horses, M/M, Robbery, Romance, Sexual Tension, Thief Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptymasks/pseuds/emptymasks
Summary: "Well, what do we have here?" The man had to bend considerably to fit through the doorway of the carriage, neck bending harshly against the ceiling as he towered over Raoul. "Such a pretty little thing all alone so late at night. Some little lord? Surely nothing more important with no one here to protect you-""A Vicomte, thank you very much. And I need no one's protection other than my own," Raoul was retorting before he could stop himself."Someone with some spirit. How... refreshing. Well, little Vicomte. What do you have for me?"(Alternate title: 5 times Erik robbed Raoul's carriage, and 1 time he got more than he intended to steal.)
Relationships: Raoul de Chagny/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	Finding something worth taking

Moonlight flickered in and out between the barren branches of the trees that lined either side of the road, light cascading against Raoul's cheeks in small glimpses before being snatched away again. The wheels of the carriage rolled smoothly against the dirt road, only occasionally bumping over some small stone.

It was quiet. Perhaps too quiet.

The lack of birds and wildlife scurrying about and crying was not unusual in the winter months, but even still...

"I know it's a shortcut you seem most fond of gazing at when it's in bloom, but Raoul I would caution you about going down that way. The cold tends to bring out all sorts of vagrants and miscreants," Philippe, his older brother, had warned him before he left.

Raoul felt a little awful for it, but the idea of some danger only had made him more intrigued. He had no death wish, of course not. But as a child he'd been so drawn to stories of fantasy, of pirates, of vigilantes on horseback. He remembered his uncle telling him stories of the famed highwayman Dick Turpin after Raoul's parents had gone to bed and the two of them would sneak downstairs and sit by the fire.

The curiosity was starting to twist a little in Raoul's stomach as they continued down the road. It would only be a minute or so before they would turn off the wooded lane onto a more open road and then another few minutes more until the horses would be clattering against cobblestone and there'd be streetlamps craning overhead. Just a few minutes more.

Moonlight once against vanished from Raoul's face, but this time seemingly with a gust of wind as something seemed to fly right past the window. He slid against to the edge of the bench where it met the wall and pressed his cheek against the glass, straining his eyes as he tried to see to the front of the carriage. But he couldn't see anything. His blue eyes almost glowed with his blonde hair a dusty halo as the light glinted across his face.

Then all of a sudden a whiny broke out and Raoul wondered if one of his horses as the carriage came to an abrupt stop. He was about to rush out of the door when he heard the thud of something, or someone, landing on the ground. Perhaps Nicolas, his driver, was sorting out whatever had happened. Maybe there was a fox in the road.

But Raoul knew those footsteps were too quiet to be Nicolas'. It was as if the owner almost was skirting along the dirt, maybe billowing it up around his feet.

Raoul slunk back away from the window to the middle of the bench, his heart unsure whether to start pounding in his chest, or freeze like a stone.

The door to the carriage swung open to fast it almost swung all the way around and crashed against the outside wall.

A thing leg clad in a heavy black boot clacked against the wooden floor of the carriage. Then another one. And then a tall back mass slunk into the room, a great black cape billowing around him as he raised his arm to show the barrel of his gun. He had a black hat tipped against his head and an equally dark mask covering his entire face. There was something draping down the back of his hat that looked too odd to be hair. Fabric, that's what it was, an extra precaution to protect his identity?

He moved slowly, almost methodically, across the carriage. His long thin limbs cut darkness across the now moonlit full carriage as he craned his head around.

"Well, what do we have here?" The man had to bend considerably to fit through the doorway of the carriage, neck bending harshly against the ceiling as he towered over Raoul. "Such a pretty little thing all alone so late at night."

A gloved hand reached out and pressed itself harshly against Raoul's skin as a thumb griped his chin, index finger digging into the hollow of his cheek. Raoul could smell that the gloves were made of leather and the velvet voice that came from behind the dark mask made Raoul's heart finally decide it wanted to speed up.

"What are you then? Some little lord? Surely nothing more important with no one here to protect you-"

"A Vicomte, thank you very much. And I need no one's protection other than my own," Raoul was retorting before he could stop himself.

"Someone with some spirit. How... refreshing. Well, little Vicomte. What do you have for me?"

Raoul blinked up at him. Forgetting for a moment as the man withdrew his closeness what the man would want with him. He soon remembered how to move though as the man rolled his shoulder and his cape moved allowing the light of the moon streaming through the open door to catch against the silver of its cylinder. Raoul recognised the model of gun; A Chamelot-Delvigne 1873 revolver. It was the gun issued to all members of the French army, and back at home Raoul had hidden own slight variation of it from his time in the Navy.

If only he had brought it with him. Philippe had asked why he never carried it around with him and Raoul had said it was just a bit of a hassle to fit under his clothes. That had been a lie. Philippe would have called Raoul too sensitive and told him to grow up if he's replied with how his hands shook at the idea of having to hold that gun again.

Raoul slid his hands into the coat that was cast aside on his seat as the man sat down opposite him. He fumbled blindly to find his coat pocket, not wanting to take his eyes off the man, before finally clutching his coin pouch. The man seemed to perk up at the noise of the coins clinking together and quickly outstretched his hand. Raoul hesitated for a moment before dropped the coins into the stranger’s palm.

He watched as the man took the coins out, counting them and inspecting them.

"They're not fake coins," Raoul said, indignity.

"Oh forgive me," He could hear the man's smirk. "I didn't mean to offend your delicate pride." He chuckled and pouch vanished beneath his dark cloak.

"Anything else?" The man leaned forward, perching his elbows against his thighs.

"I'm not some pretty maiden with a neck full of pearls and jewels."

"Not a maiden no... But who knows what you'd look like draped in pearls."

"Must you tease me as well as steal from me?"

"It's hard not too when you flush so much. People either fear me or hate me, and yet you sit there talking back to me but making no attempt to stop me, with such a dusting of pink across your nose and cheeks."

Raoul didn't know how to respond to that. It surely couldn't be true and yet he could feel the heat on his face. Maybe it was just the excitement or adrenaline. Maybe he could make believe that it was, since it was unlikely he'd ever see this man again.

Oh god and what would be tell Philippe? He really didn't want an 'I told you do' talk when he arrived home. He could just not tell Philippe? And maybe he could convince Nicolas not to tell? They wouldn't want to worry Philippe, of course.

Lost in his worried thoughts, Raoul didn't notice how the man had gotten up.

"Wait, what's your name?" Raoul blurted out, causing the man to freeze, one of his feet already out of the door.

"Why," He snarled. "So you can try and report me?"

"I have would have very bad luck with that, considering I have no idea what you look like. I'm simply... curious."

"About my name?"

"About you."

The man blinked. Raoul could tell as the moonlight caught against the man's eyes as they tried to hide away with the mask, but they glowed almost golden. He looked all at once not like a fearsome thief, but a confused cat being offered a plate of milk as it sat shaking in an alleyway, pondering and pondering about what possible ulterior motive this could have.

"Erik," He said at last.

And before Raoul could respond the man hoped out of the carriage, shut the door behind and in mere seconds was riding back past the window in a flurry of shadow

\-----

Nicolas had promised not to mention last week's unplanned stop to Philippe, worried that it might put him at risk of losing his job. But he hadn't been able to hide the fear from his eyes when Raoul asked them to go back down that road on his return from his next trip to the opera.

"But Monsieur what if _he_ is there again? I've heard others talking. They call him The Phantom, for how he seemingly appears out of nowhere and disappears back into the night. They say his body is made of pure shadow."

"He won't harm you Nicolas, the worst he'll do is take my coin, and I have plenty of it to spare. I assure you he's just a mad made of flesh like you and I"

Nicolas had looked at him strangely, but knew Raoul well enough to not fruitlessly try to change his mind.

Raoul wondered if Erik would recognise the carriage. He'd seemed to have found Raoul strange, not that Raoul could blame him as he had been acting a little out of sorts but... he'd just been so intrigued, he couldn't explain it. But perhaps Raoul had embarrassed himself too much last time that Erik wouldn't approach them.

They were only half way down the road when Raoul felt the carriage come to a stop and his heart started beating harder in his chest.

The door opened delicately and Raoul's heart sank as he thought surely it must be Nicolas. But his vision was clouded in black and as the shape settled Raoul saw Erik's cape fall about his shoulders as he sank into the opposite bench.

He started at Raoul for so long Raoul wondered if he was being dared to speak first. Maybe Erik wanted him to explain himself. Well, he would have to wait then.

Eventually, which was really just a minute or so, Erik crossed his legs, annoyed and agitated.

"Why are you here again, little Vicomte?"

"Well," Raoul shifted in his seat. "I always prefer to take this route. It's more scenic. And it is technically a short-cut for me, so..."

"You forgot about me so quickly then," Erik said it with a tone of jest, but underneath Raoul sensed that thought it was true.

"No, of course I didn't forget you."

"Then why are you back here on my road? Did you think after one robbery I would let you pass a second time?"

"Actually I... What if I hoped that you would...?”

"That I would let you pass? Foolish boy-"

"No, I meant... I meant what if I hoped that you would show up. That we would meet again."

The black mask stared at him as two tiny pinpricks of gold vanished and returned.

"Why would you want that? Not taking pity on me, I hope. I'm not some sort of charity."

"Oh not at all. I have a feeling you wouldn't have any fun with that."

"What makes you think I'm having fun now?" Erik stood and lent over Raoul, his cape swinging down around them both.

"Well," Raoul's gaze flickered from between Erik's hand and his face. One of Erik's hands was pressing against the bench in the spot between his legs, his other hand supported against the wall next to Raoul's head.

"You haven't left yet," Raoul breathed out, as he remembered breathing was a thing he was supposed to be doing.

"I'm just waiting for my prize," Erik's voice was deep and Raoul swore he could feel hot breath from where Erik's mouth would be.

Oh god Raoul could feel himself swallow hard, hyper aware of where Erik's hand was and how close it was to his thigh even as Erik seemed to lean in closer. What prize was he talking about... For surely he couldn't mean...? He had called Raoul pretty last time, but that had surely been a jest? But he seemed to still be getting closer.

Raoul blinked as a jingling sound rang out at the side of his head. Oh. Right. The money. He could feel Erik's grin as Raoul shifted awkwardly, pulling on the bottom of his honey yellow waistcoat. His eyes shifted down.

"Your gloves have a hole in the thumb," Raoul said absentmindedly, eyes drawn to the pale skin peeking out from the dark leather.

Erik drew his hand back from the seat as though he was ashamed. "Erik tore it, he didn't mean to..." He muttered, voice becoming something almost childlike, as if he thought Raoul were scolding him. He seemed to realise it himself and his eyes flashed with anger.

"What is it to you anyway?" He hissed, yet still hiding his hand from Raoul's view.

"Nothing, I'm only..." Only what? Was he just curious? Or concerned?

Why was Erik reacting like that anyway? Raoul was only trying to be polite. Kind. Was that odd? He supposed in his line of work Erik wasn't used to kindness. The only people he interacted with would be those who he robbed and why would they show him kindness. So why was Raoul showing him kindness.

It was unexplainable. There was something about Erik that Raoul just felt drawn too. Perhaps that was unhealthy, for him to find the danger exciting. Erik had a gun for Christ's sake. How could he say he had a feeling Erik wouldn't use it.

How many other people had Erik shared his name with though? He had given it on their first meeting and yet... No one else seemed to know it. Maybe no one else had asked.

He thought to apologise, but for what? Erik's back was already turned.

"Good night, monsieur," Erik said before he hoped out of the carriage, back into the night.

\-----

"What is it that you want from me?"

Erik stood in doorway of the carriage, one foot pressing inside and the rest of his body hunched and twisted to try and look at Raoul without having to actually come inside.

"Three weeks in a row, twice already I have robbed you, and yet you keep coming here?"

"Where else would I find you?" Raoul said with a look of ease but inside felt slight nerves.

A week had passed in agony. Every nightfall with the knowledge Erik was out here on this road had started to drive him mad. It was pure madness and nothing more. To be intrigued by this man, this _Phantom_ , to desire him. With every evening Raoul felt it more and more and had to come to terms with the realisation that it was not some mere thrill of danger he felt in Erik's presence. There was no childhood boyish fantasy about meeting a highwayman, or evening joining him on an adventure. It was the reality of realising that less than romantic reality of Erik's tattered clothing, the thinness of his bones, the unfamiliarity with basic human kindness, paired with that mystery, those eyes, that voice which teased him so, that made Raoul's skin grow hot as he laid in his bed.

"Aren't you going to come inside?"

Erik lifted the weight off his foot that was inside the carriage, before pressing it back down. He rocked back and forth as he contemplated to himself, before planting himself across from Raoul.

An awkward silence filled the air as Erik shuffled among the seat.

Finally he turned his head and folded his arms over his chest. "So, what do you have for me?"

"The same as always," Raoul tossed his coin pouch at Erik. "Oh, and these."

He reached out his hand for Erik to take the items from him. Erik was cautious, as if somehow this could be a trap, before grabbing the edge of the fabric and sliding them out of Raoul's hand. They were turned over and back again as they were inspected.

"Gloves?"

"Yes, gloves," Raoul nervously bit on his lip. Why should he be feeling nervous?!

"These seem too large to fit you."

"Well, yes of course. They wouldn't make a very good gift for you if I bought them in my own size."

Raoul hadn't thought it possible the night could get any quieter, and yet...

Oh he wished he could see what Erik's face looked like behind his mask. His entire body had frozen on the spot, not even blinking. Was he shocked? Was he disgusted? Was there a flush across his cheeks? Raoul knew he could feel his own burning up the longer the silence progressed.

"A... gift?" Erik choked out.

"Yes, they're a gift, Erik. I noticed last time that yours had a hole in so I thought..."

"That you would bribe me away with fine leather gloves?"

"What? No, not at all. I just thought, well I just hoped that... you'd like them."

Erik squinted at him, and Raoul felt a little pleased at being able to make out some emotions Erik conveyed. He leaned over Raoul, slightly raising from his seat, as he seemed to be trying to wring out the truth from Raoul with just his glare, and then his eyes widened as if seeing and daring to believe Raoul was already telling him the truth.

He sat staring down at the gloves that hung limply over his hands. Raoul sucked in a breath and slowly, as if approaching a deer that might spook, took a couple of steps across the carriage and quietly as he could fell to his knees in between Erik's parted legs.

Erik didn't seem to realise he was there until Raoul tentatively reached up and brushed his hands against Erik's own. He tried to recoil but Raoul gripped his hands, stroking his thumbs against them until Erik seemed to calm down enough for Raoul to peel the aged and falling apart gloves off his hands.

As the leather peeled away Raoul stared at Erik's hands even as they twitched. Out of nervousness perhaps? That was... a little adorable. What a strange word to use to describe such a man. Raoul chuckled slightly to himself as he became distracted by running his thumb down the length of Erik's long, rather elegant looking fingers.

Clutching at the fabric of his trousers, Erik tried to pull away again. "You laugh at Erik's skin."

Raoul blinked in confusion. Was that something Erik was insecure about?

"If you must know, I was actually thinking they were quite beautiful. I only laughed at my own oxymoron of thinking of your demeanour now as almost adorable contrasted with your usual imposing one."

He looked down again at Erik's hands again as he once again felt Erik's eyes staring at him with such confusion. As Erik slowly unclenched his hands, Raoul could now see harsh lines of scars that began at the backs of Erik's knuckles and disappeared up his sleeves. Of course... no one with a happy upbringing would probably find themselves in this line of work. But then Raoul thought of the high collar, the mask... Was all of Erik's skin covered in such scars?

Raoul took the new gloves he had bought, something of far better quality than Erik could ever afford, and slid them up Erik's fingers. He did the same with the other hand, not before indulging himself and placing a kiss to the back of Erik's hand, his pink lips plush and soft against the hard and cold skin.

He looked up and felt as though Erik's eyes were burning into him. The second glove slid up Erik's hand and Raoul maintained eye contact as Erik's fingers twitched and caught against his chin.

"I hope they're comfortable," Raoul's voice was quiet, not wanting to shatter the moment.

The leather crinkled as Erik flexed his fingers, screwing them up into fists and then straightening them out again. Raoul wanted to say something more, he wasn't sure what, but he wanted to open his mouth to speak again but the words lost themselves as the carriage suddenly rocked to the side and the moment was gone.

"Cesar, no," Erik made to get up.

Raoul had the dreadful shameful feeling that they'd been caught by some companion of Erik's. But as he turned around he heard a strong puff of breath and the carriage rocked as a beautiful white horse rocked into the carriage, his head already peering through the door. Erik fussed over the stallion, shooing him outside and seemingly giving him a stern talking too.

Trailing behind them into the cold night air, Raoul stared at this strange tall skeleton of a man draped in nothing but black talking to horse or pure white as though it was a badly behaving dog.

Both of them turned to Raoul as he started laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Erik seemed almost flustered as he brushed down his cloak and fiddled with his hat. Outside the carriage was only slightly brighter, but Raoul could make out a little more clearly the layers of cape and coat and waistcoat,. He could see the line where Erik's boots laid against his trousers just below the knee. He could see how the mask wasn't some cheap piece of cloth and was something sculpted as it sat neatly against Erik's face. Had Erik made it himself?

"Doesn't a bright white horse make you stand out a little?"

"It wasn't really ever in my plan," Erik huffed. "But Cesar is a good boy. Loyal. And his previous owners were not too kind to him. I suppose I saw some of myself in him."

Erik's voice trailed off somewhere farther away as he seemed to forget himself, then he quickly and effortlessly pulled himself atop Cesar.

"Good night. Your home is not too far away, no? You might be lucky enough to get back before the rain starts."

"You didn't follow me home one night, did you?" Raoul laughed and then stopped as Erik turned his head. "Erik?"

The cape nearly hit Raoul in the face as Erik swung up onto Cesar. "Good night, Vicomte de Chagny. Safe travels."

The bastard had the audacity to tip his hat before he rode away.

\-----

"I wonder what your driver must think. The young Vicomte de Chagny fraternizing with a common thief. Surely someone is wondering what is taking you so long to get back home?" Erik said as he stretched his legs out, seemingly content to start treating the carriage like a sitting room.

"Nicolas wouldn't tell anyone. And if he had the inkling too, I can appease him as I appease you."

"Is that what you do? Make a habit of paying people to get what you want."

"Of course not," Raoul snapped. "If I were to slip him an increase in his wages it would only be to protect the both of us from any scandal."

Erik sat up straighter. "I meant no offence... How strange you are, little Count, to think you must protect me from others and not the other way around."

"My name is Raoul," Choosing to avoid answering Erik's probing statement as he didn't really want to think of the moral implications of any of this, Raoul blurted out something he'd been mulling over for a while. "You knew though, probably, I mean you already figured out who I was so... But I just meant that, well, you can call me Raoul. I always call you Erik."

"I didn't give you any other name."

"Something tells me perhaps you only have the one."

"Something did?" Erik perched his elbows on his legs and lent forwards to rest his chin on his hands. "So there is some perception going on in there. What exactly makes you think that?"

Raoul felt all of a sudden embarrassed. "I don't rightly know... And I don't mean to offend, I just... You seem not like someone who doesn't have a home, but perhaps someone who has never had one. And orphans don't usually have surnames."

"You could not offend me."

"You say that as if you aren't easily offend."

"Oh, unlike you?"

Letting his back hit against the wall, Raoul conceded. "Will you tell me if I was right?"

Erik shifted his in his seat, his fingers on one hand rubbing up at down the other's knuckles. "I was not an orphan."

"Oh?" Raoul wasn't going to be surprised if he had been wrong about everything. He was very well versed with people from lower classes so everything he said could have been wrong. It was mostly ideas drawn from lone wanderers from tales he had heard growing up, granted they were works of fiction.

"But," Erik continued. "You can take some pride in thinking I'd never had a home. I'd at least never been in a place that felt like one."

Oh well... Pride wasn't really what Raoul was feeling now. He thought if he worked things out about Erik, or Erik began to like or trust him enough to tell him, that he would feel joyful. But he supposed the reality of growing up alone, or at least feeling alone, wasn't something that should be romanticised.

Erik seemed to not know what to do with himself as he kept shifting and when he coughed Raoul thought he was going to ask for Raoul's money, but he simply went quiet again.

"You don't have to sit over there, you know," Raoul's heart fluttered in his chest. This was it. He was going to find out Erik's true intentions. "There's plenty of room on this bench."

"And this one is equally comfortable."

"Oh the great Phantom of the roads, afraid to sit next to me."

"I'm not afraid," Erik snarled.

"No?" Raoul raised an eyebrow up and smiled cheekily, a smile that only widened as Erik got up and grumbled under his breath.

"Insistent boy. I have half the mind you'll be the death of me," Flicking his cape up so it did not get as caught up underneath him, Erik sat next to Raoul with a huff.

"Oh, how so?" Raoul turned, sliding a little to close some of the distance between them and hoping Erik wouldn't notice.

"You keep letting yourself get robbed so often, people will think you're an easy target."

"Well then _people_ will have the misfortune of finding out quite the opposite."

Erik laughed. "Oh will you fight them away with your feistiness, my little Vicomte."

"I'll have you know I was in the navy," Raoul puffed out his chest and squared his shoulders. "I could take a robber or two if I had the mind too."

There was silence as Erik started at him.

"Then why haven't you?" He asked, his voice soft all of a sudden.

"Why haven't I what?" Raoul furrowed his brow.

"Had the mind too."

Raoul's mouth went dry. Erik seemed impossibly close and he wasn't sure when or if either of them had started sliding down the seat.

He wondered then what it would feel like to have those leather clad hands pining his own wrists against the wall behind him. What it would feel like to have a leg shoved between his own, as Erik bore his weight down on him. Maybe both of his wrists would be captured in but one hand, long fingers grasping him like a rope, as Erik would grab his chin and tilt it upwards to claim his mouth. Would he have to tell Raoul to be quiet less his driver hear them? He wouldn't want a scandal, would he? He'd let himself fall open on the seating as Erik would remain swathed in black, undressing him and claiming another prize for himself.

Or would Erik let himself be pushed back. Raoul thought about the previous week as he had knelt between Erik's legs to put his gloves on and how Erik had seemed so unused to the touch. Would he let Raoul guide him backwards, limbs tangling in the small space, as he let someone take him apart for the first time? Had anyone ever touched Erik in that way?

He reached out, mind running with scenarios, and traced his hand over Erik's, giving him the opportunity to turn away. But Erik stood still as a statue. Raoul grew bolder, his fingers skimming along Erik's shoulders, until they reached under his jaw and slid under the edge of his mask.

That seemed to snap Erik out of the moment as his hands were suddenly around Raoul's wrists, squeezing painfully like a vice.

But Raoul did not want to give up. Erik's panic only fuelled Raoul's curiosity. He seemed far too fearful to be solely worried about his identity being discovered. Raoul thought back on the scars he'd seen along Erik's hands.

"I won't be scared," Raoul whispered, his fingers tracing lightly against the dry skin he'd managed to find.

"You will be horrified," Erik's voice echoed against the mask now longer pressing taut against his mouth.

"Then, just a little..." Raoul pressed still, half expecting to be thrown across the carriage, but half not caring. If Erik would give him this little leeway.

He pressed the mask up just enough to see Erik's mouth, stopping as he saw what would had had to be the start of Erik's nostrils, but Raoul saw no dip of flesh between them. He let his hands rest of the mask there, simply holding it up but not pushing it, until Erik realised Raoul meant that he would reveal no more of his face. The grip on his wrists loosened, but the hands did not leave, for they could not trust Raoul to keep his word.

Raoul traced his thumbs up the pale skin of Erik's sunken cheeks, they were hollowed out and yet Raoul could sense the strong cheekbones above. His skin was dry and cold, not soft but not rough either. His thumbs drew closer together as he found paper thin lips set in a hard line, but they trembled as Raoul touched them.

Having found his mark in the darkness of the carriage, Raoul slide his hands back against Erik's cheeks, brushing against the fabric that was drawn down over his ears. The skin around the back of Erik's head was smooth, the only hair catching on Raoul's nails being nothing but tiny wisps.

Erik gasped as Raoul kissed him, as if with Raoul so close he still didn't expect it would happen. Raoul was suddenly struck with the question of whether Erik had ever been kissed before and the idea of this being his first made Raoul want to make it all the more enjoyable. His hands slid against Erik's skin as he moved his lips slowly, parting them for a second before kissing Erik again. And then again. And again and he wanted to keep going but felt that Erik's hands had slipped from grabbing his wrists to clutching at the fabric of his sleeves as his whole body shook.

"Erik, I'm sorry, was that..." Raoul panted as withdrew. "Was that alright?"

He could see Erik's chest heaving and Raoul's hands pulled themselves back forwards and couldn't resist a final slide across Erik's lips, now slightly slick and wet.

His fingers pressed down despite trying to have some self-control and Erik jumped, head almost knocking against the ceiling, as he scrambled to pull his mask back down so quickly that Raoul's' hands were almost trapped underneath it, oh to be forever trapped between parted lips and porcelain.

"Erik, wait-"

But Erik had already pushed himself away and flung himself out of the carriage and as Cesar's white hide flashed past him Raoul felt the weight of his coins safely nestled in his pocket.

\-----

The road was quiet as always and Raoul's heart pounded over and over and over again in his chest. It was as though the sound of it was the only thing he could hear. It seemed to rise and fall as the carriage finally turned onto the road, but as they got further and further down it... Raoul's heart only sank lower and lower.

Had he scared Erik off? He'd kissed Raoul back so... He wanted Raoul too, hadn't he? Wouldn't Erik be pleased to see him again?

But he had also run off right afterwards. Was he ashamed? But Raoul could give him so much. He could give Erik safety and security. Wouldn't Erik want that? He wouldn't have to stalk about in the cold and the rain. Or they could continue this? Whatever this was? Raoul only knew that he hadn't wanted to see anyone else this badly before.

They were past the middle of the road now, and there was still no sign of Erik. The night air seemed dead and stale as the wind blew shadows of gnarled fingers across Raoul's cheeks. Raoul didn't know what to do. They'd be at the end of the road soon, leaving Erik's domain, and he didn't know what to do.

He could just shout out of the window and ask Nicolas to stop... But he was already counting on Nicolas for his trust with enough of these visits. If he did that, how long should he wait? How embarrassing would it be if he stopped and Erik was out there just standing and laughing at how pathetic he looked and never approached the carriage at all?

Raoul pressed his hands against the window, peering out at the nothingness. And he said nothing, letting Nicolas take the carriage straight home.

\-----

Raoul stayed up tossing and turning, before giving up on trying to sleep at all. He couldn't stop thinking if he'd made a terrible prideful mistake. He was so worried about what Nicolas would think, and what Erik would think, that he'd just let Nicolas drive on. What if Erik had been somewhere else and hadn't shown up yet? What if he'd thought Raoul just hadn't shown up?

Though what kept his stomach twisting was the idea that he'd read everything completely wrong and that Erik wasn't interested in him at all.

Pale sheets slid of his body as Raoul's feet padded against the cold floor so he could fetch his dressing gown. The deep maroon fabric kept him warm as he opened the doors to the small balcony window and let the wind chill his bones. He wondered if he should pick up smoking like his brother as he imagined doing anything other than just standing staring at the moon. Not that it wasn't a beautiful sight. But it wasn't going to bring him any comfort.

Sighing with resignation, Raoul shut the doors behind him and flopped down onto his bed. He'd not closed the curtains to the balcony, letting the moon shine down on his face. The light might keep him awake, but it wasn't as though Raoul thought he'd get much sleep now anyway. He closed his eyes and wondered if he could imagine being laid back against the seat in his carriage, the moonlight flickering in and out of view from behind his eyelids.

That... was only meant to be in his imagination though.

His entire body tensed as he realised he couldn't see the moonlight anymore.

He tried to keep his breathing as quiet and slow and consistent as possible as he started to slid up to his elbows. He knew if it was some burglar it was safer to act like he was asleep. But what would be the chances of a random burglar picking his bedroom window of all of them. Hadn't Erik followed him home one night? Had he followed him again and watched Raoul come to bed after they'd kissed?

As slowly as he could he turned his head to the side and opened his eyes.

Behind the glass doors was a tall shadow, a silhouette that was unmistakable with its long cape and hat. Raoul turned and sat on the edge of the bed, not breaking eye contact with where he was guessing Erik's face was.

The shadow didn't move. But neither did Raoul. No, Erik needed to be the one to decide here, Raoul was not going to chase him. There was... perhaps... the chance that Erik was here to kill him... That... hadn't even been anything he'd slightly considered. For all he knew Erik had killed before. And if he felt like he'd let Raoul see too much of himself, then Raoul was a threat to his secrecy.

Wood screeched as the balcony doors were slowly pushed open. It was like an ink etching from one of those books, this pure black shape standing out there as the curtains billowed out as the doors opened, the moonlight behind everything... Raoul held his breath.

"Why did you come back again?" Erik's voice seemed to rumble.

"So you were there!" Raoul shot to his feet. "Then why didn't you come over?"

"You answer my questions first, little Vicomte," Erik stalked a couple of steps towards him. Raoul swallowed as he realised the two of them had never been stood this close, only sat, and it allowed him to take in Erik's height more as he looked up at him.

"Why wouldn't I have? I wanted to see you."

"Why?"

"Erik, for God's sake I _kissed you_ ," Raoul hissed the words out as he noticed himself getting louder. "Why would any man do that to someone?"

"Maybe you thought it could spare your purse forever more. Maybe you thought it would make me soft you."

Raoul closed all the distance between them, almost stepping on Erik's toes.

"Aren't you already?"

Erik didn't reply and Raoul wanted to keep pressing.

"Aren't you, Erik? Erik? How many people have you shared that name with? How many people have you let get that close to you? How many people have you let have any slight peak under that mask?" Raoul's hands came up and hovered by the sides of Erik's face and watched as he flinched. "You want me."

"You're a vain, foolish little boy," Erik's voice slid out of his teeth as Raoul pushed the mask up once more, until he snapped, pushing Raoul's arms out of the way and tearing the mask of himself. His hat went fluttering to the floor.

Raoul gasped as he stared at Erik's face, but he steeled himself not to look away. His cheeks were not the only part of his face sunken in. His cheekbones and his temples stuck out, and down under his brow bone Raoul could barely tell where Erik's eye sockets started. Those eyes that had seemed black with pinpricks of yellow, were really a deep brown. Quite a pretty colour. But his skin was so dry it almost looked as though it had been sucked tight against his bones, and his nose... Or whatever was left of it. A little way down from between his eyes his face just seemed to opened up onto this hole that stopped where ones nostrils would. His mouth Raoul had already made himself quite familiar with.

"Is this what you wanted to see?!" Erik tried to shout out the words but with Raoul still gazing up at him they seemed to get stuck in his throat. "You can now say that curiosity of yours is satisfied and leave me be."

"No!" Raoul gripped his hands down without thinking, right against Erik's cheeks.

"No? Did you want a closer look?" Erik snarled, his hands starting to make fists in Raoul's dressing gown.

"My curiosity isn't satiated. Erik I... Won't pretend this isn't... shocking..."

That was a little bit of an understatement. Raoul had suspected something was wrong with Erik's face, though he'd thought scaring at worst. This was... Raoul didn't even know how to describe it... And yet he couldn't take his eyes of Erik. Was there something wrong with him to find something handsome in that face, even still? And it didn't change who Erik was.

"It... will take some getting used to," Raoul said. "But it's just a face. And a face that happens to be on a man I'm very interested in."

Erik gazed down at him, the hands clutching Raoul's robe were trembling. "Even still?"

He said it as if he dared not hope. But the fact that he'd said it at all, rather than shoot Raoul down with another insult or scream... That was progress.

"Even still."

Raoul pulled Erik's face down against him and as he kissed Erik again he felt Erik's tears sliding against their cheeks and he pulled Erik harder against him, slowly giving him the confidence to explore Raoul back. And slowly but surely, Erik's hands unclenched themselves and began to move and slide around Raoul's waist, brushing over his hips, until Erik's lips moves and pressed harder against him and Raoul felt himself tipping as Erik pushed him down onto the bed and knelt over him, their lips still connected.

He didn't know what they parted, but they had too eventually, less they suffocate one another. Raoul breathed out a laugh as he pulled himself up his bed, trying to aim his head to land on his pillows, and groaning as Erik just let himself go boneless on top of him. For such a slim man, he still had a fair bit of weight to him.

But he let Erik lie there, afraid that if he were to disturb Erik this would all shatter. That Erik would fly out off the balcony, into the night, and never to be seen again.

So he let Erik lay there, bony hips pressing awkwardly against Raoul's thigh, until Erik felt comfortable to say something.

"You should leave your driver behind next time."

Raoul laughed and shook his head.

"Ah and already so sure they'll be a next time. What should I do? Will the horses to go the right way with the power of my mind?" He mockingly pressed his fingers against his temples and Erik huffed, lightly slapping at his hands.

"You do know how to ride, don't you?"

Raoul sat up. "You expect me to ride out all that way on my own?"

"I'll protect you."

The words ran up Raoul's spine with a pleasant shiver.

"Well, at sweet as that is and as thrilled as those words make me, it doesn't change the fact you wouldn't be with the whole time. I'm not wishing for anyone else to start robbing me," Raoul paused and lent back against the headboard. "Though... You are right. I can't exactly keep making Nicolas an accomplice to this... Whatever this is... And I don't know how much longer he'll want to keep his mouth shut. Although, you know what?"

Erik rolled so that his stomach was pressing down over Raoul's outstretched leg. "What?" He asked, already sounding pessimistic.

"Well I have been making Nicolas stay out awfully long hours, it's not very fair to him. He can drive me around all day as much as he pleased, but perhaps... Well for the sake of not overworking the man, perhaps I could employ a new driver? Just for very late evening appointments?"

Sliding up to his knees, Erik's eyes blinked at him. "Would this new driver be paid?"

"Oh, quite handsomely. Though I would hope, there'd be other things he found enticing about the position rather than just the coin?" Raoul couldn't help the slight hint of a question leak out in his voice.

"My little Vicomte," Erik slid up his body, black fabric pooling everywhere and sinking against Raoul's cream bedspread. "It has not been just about the coin since you asked me my name."

And Raoul let himself sink into the bed with all that fabric, as he tried to the ties that kept it all together.

"You know this does not mean Erik is quitting his regular job?" Erik panted between their mouths.

Raoul grinned, knowing it was wrong. "Well, I always did fancy someone stealing my heart."

**Author's Note:**

> Ha wow so it's been a long time since I posted on here... Last time was October huh... I was writing in November, I was writing something for NaNoWriMo, but I stressed myself out too much with it and so stopped, always intending to go back and finish it off but... And then mental health things, but also I was spending most of my time working on a comic you can read here: . 
> 
> But really I don't know I suppose I sort of lost the motivation and desire to write, which is sad. But then I saw this ask last night on fallenidolandfalsefriend's tumblr saying "consider: highwayman erik who won't stop robbing raoul's carriages" and I couldn't get the idea out of my head. And I went to bed thinking about it and then spend all day writing this.
> 
> Also maybe got the title in part from Stand and Deliver by Adam and the Ants. Which is a song about a highwayman that I only know of because... the Dick Turpin song from Horrible Histories is a parody of it. Look. If you're British and watched Horrible Histories growing up and like men then I guarantee Dick Turpin was a childhood crush of yours.
> 
> Also I want to write a nsfw thing for this au so you know.... let me know if anyone wants to see that


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